My Just Keep Swimming
by CaptainPumpkinPie
Summary: Working at Sacred Heart, J.D. knows all about hardships. Most of the time, he and his co workers just want to make it through the day. And J.D. is learning a little about standing up to everything life throws at you...
1. Rest in Peace, Sasha

**This is set in beginning of Season 5/end of Season 4 zone. J.D. and Elliot live together but aren't "together", Turk and Carla are married but aren't trying for a baby yet, and Keith and the interns haven't happened.**

If there's one thing you learn from working at a hospital it's that nothing's in your control. Even little things, like saying you want pizza for dinner, can't be certainties. You could get to your favorite pizza parlor and find out it burned to the ground. In the same way, Sacred Heart was a runaway train that no one could stop. I'll never be able to say "This patient is not going to die" and be one hundred percent sure everything will go according to plan. It rarely does.

Dr. Cox snapped me out of my daily nurses' desk monologue with a sharp whistle. "Okay, Gloria, the shift's coming to a close and God Almighty knows there was nothing I loved more than sprinting between dying patients and the sole and inconveniently placed espresso machine in the cafeteria just to make sure I didn't collapse on the nearest gurney, which, coincidentally, probably had a mauled person bleeding to death on it I should have been taking care of. We're off in ten minutes, so do not bother me in that short time. Any questions? Good." He turned on his heel, shoved past me with his patented shoulder bump, and disappeared down the hall.

Carla rolled her eyes and scribbled something on her clipboard. "Ignore him, Bambi. He's a jerk."

It was a kind thought, but I was more interested in her pen. "Where'd you get that clicky-top?" My hand reached across the counter to grab it. She slapped it away, making an "Ugh" sound as she bustled into Mrs. Kell's room.

_Damn. The nurses get all the clicky-tops._ I punched the up button on the elevator and waited impatiently for the doors to open, remembering I had to check on Mr. Adams every three hours to see how he was responding to the pain meds. The Janitor blocked my way into the elevator when its doors slid apart. He was holding a large, person-sized object in a black garbage-bag-type thing by one end, the other end resting on the floor.

I reached inside and held down the "door open" button. "Please tell me that is not a dead body."

"Sure is," he replied nonchalantly. "Fresh out the morgue. Had to tell that Doug guy Blonde Doctor wanted to talk to him to get it."

"And…what are you going to do with it?"

"Take it up to the roof and drop it on your scooter." He stuck his head out and looked up and down the hall. "Okay…no Kelso. See ya." The Janitor tightened his hold on the dead guy and dragged him swiftly across the ground to the Roof-Access stairwell.

"Well…for your information, Sasha is parked in the Parking Garage!" I shouted, backing into the elevator.

He laughed loudly. "We don't have a Parking Garage, Dorian."

_Damn, he has me. _The doors closed before I could tell him we had a secret Parking Garage no one told him about since his van would take away from its class.

I got off at the ICU. The Intensive Care Unit is one of my least favorite areas, probably because it's so open. Most of the patients are laid out on beds separated only by thin curtains. Unfortunately for me, the main nurses' station is here, as well as a ton of my own patients. I crossed the busy space and stopped at Mr. Adams's bed. Perusing his clipboard, I nodded to myself. The poor guy had been trapped in a burning office building for half an hour. He'd managed to get out okay, with only a few first-degree burns and a broken shoulder where a piece of roofing had struck him.

"Well, Mr. Adams, you sure do well on the _hot seat_," I told him conversationally, followed by my, according to Dr. Cox, "cocky, condescending" laugh (yeah right).

He glared at me, which looked kind of funny because a thick bandage was wrapped around his head. "My ass burns like hell."

I ignored this. "Your charts look good, and once we get the lab results back on your lungs, we might be able to let you out."

"Thank God," he said, leaning his head back on his pillow.

"Hey, hey, where's the _fire_?" He started to answer, but I waved a hand, laughed again, and said, "Okay, Mr. Adams, I'll be seeing you."

He said something that sounded like "I'm going to claw your eyes out", but I was already returning to the nurses' desk. Carla was reviewing someone's charts.

"Didn't I just see you downstairs?" I asked her.

"Yeah…I…took the stairs!" she finished in a rush. "Why? Am I not _welcome _here, J.D.? Is that it?" She turned it all around on me.

I held up my hands. Just then, Turk strutted up with red splatters on his scrubs and a cocky grin. "I ― am ― AMAZING!" The last word was screeched in a high soprano.

"You knock out the surgery, C-Bear?"

He nodded, crossing his arms and rocking back on his heels. "Never in the history of forever has such a perfect valve installment ever been accomplished."

"Wait, who needed a heart valve surgery?" Carla asked, glancing up from her paperwork.

Turk and I shared a look. He grinned again, shedding his dripping surgical gloves. "No, baby, it wasn't a real surgery. You know how there's only one bottle of ketchup in the cafeteria that they refill with the giant ketchup vat in the kitchen? See, I installed a valve in the back of the vat so my boy J.D. and I don't have to fight people off the bottle of ketchup! Up here, dawg!" I slapped him a high-five.

Carla sighed. "So you spend your breaks planning Grand Theft Ketchup instead of figuring out how to fix the sink in our bathroom? When we get to the apartment, I am not sleeping with you until that sink is not spewing sewage water at everything." She marched off with an armful of charts.

"Damn," Turk grumbled. "I'mma go call a plumber. See you later, Vanilla Bear."

"I think I need a plumber ― down there! Good-timing five!" The Todd yelled, appearing out of nowhere with his hand up for a high-five.

"Um…no." Turk and I turned our separate ways and left him alone at the desk.

I was pretty tired after a twelve-hour shift, and it was almost nine, when I was supposed to clock out. I checked out a few of my other patients to be sure they were okay. Then, I grabbed my bag out of my locker and left through the east wing, just like routine.

Elliot was standing next to Sasha at the bottom of the ramp. Well, the _remains_ of Sasha. She looked like someone had taken an anvil and dropped it right over her seat. Glass littered the ground around her, with a few pieces of twisted metal sticking up here and there. I knelt down and scooped up her mangled headlight. Only a few shards of glass were still intact. Holding up the scrap to the heavens, I screamed in anguish, _"Noooooooooooooooooooooooooooo!" _

"So I'm going to guess we're taking my car?" Elliot asked, nodding.

"Elliot, please, this is a very emotional moment for me."

She sighed heavily and folded her arms across her chest. "Fine. What happened?"

"It was the _Janitor_!" I concluded, dropping the headlight. "He dumped a dead body on Sasha to spite me!"

"Not this with the Janitor again," she scoffed, shaking her head. "That's as unlikely as me not crying when Gerard Butler is attacked by the overzealous Phantom of the Opera fanatics that don't like him playing the Phantom. Oh, Gerard, your voice is magical…" She trailed off dreamily.

I didn't feel like arguing with her about the Janitor's crafty brand of evil, so I agreed to the ride home. Elliot helped me heft Sasha into the back seat. Of course, I dropped Sasha on Elliot's foot (twice), which made her promise she'd take a hammer to my scooter later. Eventually, we were buckled up and on the road.

"My foot hurts," she grumbled.

I rolled my eyes. "Oh, you're being a baby."

"It's bleeding!" she cried indignantly. "You know what? You're sleeping on the couch. Stick _that _in your juice box and suck it."

"Um, Elliot? I already sleep on the couch."

She frowned. "Then…you're sleeping in the bedroom!"

"Alright!" Score one for J-Dizzle.

"Wait ― that came out wrong! Frick! No, you ―"

"Silence, infidel!" I commanded. "Do not take back that which you have spoken!"

She drove in fuming silence all the way to her apartment. I was feeling pretty smug, since I usually only got to sleep in her room when the heater's broken and we're both freezing our behinds off. Boldly, I held her car door for her and the front door open. She gave me the "Die in a hole" look.

Living with Elliot would've been awkward a few weeks ago, but our friendship had been revived and renewed. I honestly didn't mind staying there. We'd gotten into a routine, where I made dinner on Tuesdays and Thursdays and Elliot handled every other day (she's a better cook anyway). We split laundry and dishes evenly.

She stiffly reminded me that it was Tuesday and limped to the bathroom. I was pulling ingredients out of the cupboard when she came out, her Felix the Cat slippers mostly hiding the bandage on her foot. Elliot was reading a medical journal when I yelled, "Dinner's ready!"

We sat across from each other at the kitchen counter. She thoroughly inspected her hotdog, but didn't seem to find anything wrong with it. "What did you do to it?"

"I don't know what you're talking about," I said with my chin up.

She took an experimental bite, braced for the worst.

_Crack_.

Her hand flew to her mouth. "_Ow_! Frick! What's in those?"

"I guess some people don't appreciate Granny Dorian's Oyster Shell-Stuffed Hotdogs," I huffed, crunching down on my hotdog.

Elliot spat a broken oyster shell in the sink and coughed. "I think I broke a tooth," she mumbled, massaging her jaw. "Ugh. I'm going to sleep." She disappeared into her bedroom.

_Good. She'll be asleep soon. _I finished my dinner slowly and put our dishes in the sink. Then, I flaunted the ninja skills and crept into her room. Just to make sure she was sleeping, I whispered, "Hey Elliot…I'm going to try on your lingerie and take pictures of us to send to your parents…" When she didn't move, I changed into my emergency PJs (stashed under her bed) and crawled under the covers.

"Mm…warmth." I snuggled with her Bugs Bunny pillow.

"Shut up, J.D.," Elliot growled.


	2. Duct Tape and Pitchforks

**Change of plans. This is somewhere in the beginning of the seventh season, with all it entails (Keith, Sam, Kim).**

I awoke to someone kindly pouring cold water over my head. And, no, it's not comfortable. Thanks for asking.

"Ow!" I shouted, feeling an ice cube bounce off my forehead. "Elliot! What the hell?" I shook water out of my hair like a dog and glared at her.

She looked pretty pissed, already dressed and showered. "It's six-thirty. You wouldn't wake up half an hour ago, so I took drastic measures." She shook the pitcher of ice water in her left hand.

"Oh, I get it. You're still pissed about me sneak-sleeping in here." I stood up and stretched. "Too bad. It was delicious, by the way. And thanks for the free bath. Now I don't even have to take a shower."

Elliot made a disgusted noise and left, her white coat swishing behind her like a superhero-cape. Man, we'd be screwed if Elliot was a superhero….

_Frightened citizen: Help! That daycare full of helpless children is on fire!_

_Elliot: *Landing in a kick-ass superhero costume* Never fear, the Doctor is here!_

_Citizen: Isn't that a character on some crappy sitcom?_

_Second Citizen: Wait, I thought there was a villain named the Doctor? Or was that the Professor?_

_First Citizen: The Professor? Nah, he's a good guy right?_

_Second Citizen: Well, there are a lot of professors. The guy from Pokemon, and the Powerpuff girls, and Gilligan's Island…_

_First Citizen: But they're all good guys._

_Second Citizen: True. But she's a doctor, not a professor. Maybe she's evil?_

_First Citizen: Yeah, the hot girls are always evil. _

_Elliot: *Dabbing at eyes* Aw! Thank you! I'm flying to Connecticut to tell my mother people think I'm attractive _and_ intimidating! *Flies away*_

_Second Citizen: She forgot the daycare…_

_First Citizen: She wasn't very intimidating, either…_

"J.D.!" Elliot yelled, leaning on the doorjamb.

"Forget your mother, Elliot, think about the children!"

That threw her for a minute. "What ― just be ready in five minutes and stop fantasizing about me. It makes me nervous." She left.

"Well…You'd be a terrible superhero!"

I don't know why, but today felt kind of different. Maybe it was because Dr. Cox was out and I was officially the chief attending for a day, which I thought was pretty big. In addition to my usual intern monkeys, I get to boss around all the residents, too. But I don't think my power extends to the other attendings. Snoop Dogg Attending called his homeboys on me when I demanded a cup of coffee, but I think we're chill now.

At least, that's the message I was receiving when they duct-taped me to the vending machine in the doctor's lounge.

I must have been there for an hour before Howie came in. He stared at me for a few minutes, apparently comprehending that I wanted him to get me down (it was difficult, considering the tape over my mouth). He bent down and started to rip off the tape binding my legs. Then he peeled the strip off my mouth.

"Hold your legs up," Howie commanded in his usual monotone. I did. The intern bent down and fed a dollar into the machine. He hopped up with a packaged muffin in one fist, his other fist close to my face. "No one gets in the way of the breakfast muffin." And then he was gone.

"Oh…that's cool. Just leave the CHIEF ATTENDING OF THE DAY taped to the vending machine. Peachy."

And, like magic, every medical intern and resident on this side of the hospital was there, fighting like animals to get me down. Fortunately for me, everyone in Sacred Heart will do anything to get ahead of the game, and if that means kissing ass, fine by me.

I decided to take advantage of my new power. Pointing to a geeky intern, I shouted "You! Get me my coffee." I gestured to a random resident. "I want you to get some friends and egg Snoop's car. You, in the back! For the rest of the day, you're going to be my personal messenger system, or PMS for short. Now, go tell Turk 'Wassup, Chocolate Bear?' And…make it rhyme somehow! Everyone else, back to work!" The crowd dispersed as the geeky intern returned with my coffee. The day was finally looking up.

Thankfully, Dr. Cox wasn't there to yell at me for being an hour late. I escaped Kelso's wrath only because he was plotting to steal Howie's breakfast muffin. Carla, unfortunately, was very capable to fill in for them.

"Bambi! Where have you been for the last hour? I've been busting my butt trying to cover all these patients! If it weren't for the interns trying to prove themselves to you, we'd all be buried in work. If you screw up again, I'm telling Dr. Cox tomorrow and you know what'll happen then…"

Her words sparked a fantasy. I tried to suppress it, but it was too late. Carla was going to kill me when she realized I was tuning her out, but it was too late…

_Dr. Cox: *Cocks shotgun* Where. Is. Newbie?_

_Everyone else: *Exits the room immediately*_

_J.D.: *Hiding behind nurses' desk* Um…Newbie's not here right now. Leave a message after the tone._

_Dr. Cox: *Suddenly across the counter from him* Beep. See ya in the hell, Nancy! *Fires gun* _

"Bambi! Are you ignoring me? That's it, I'm giving a _detailed_ report of your progress to Dr. Cox tomorrow." She gave me a stern look and left.

"Damn." I was totally in for it. Sighing, I started filling out a chart. When I looked up, my PMS orderly was back. He was scowling. "Turk said, 'This is freakin' awesome, V-Bear!'"

I smiled. "Ooh, tell him I found the saltine." The orderly grumbled something and stalked off.

Since all of my interns were doing my work for me, I took a walk to check on my new favorite patient, Mr. Popper. He's a funny old bald guy, blind as a bat, but as cool as a cat. I barely entered his room before he asked, "Is that Dr. Dorian, or some other pansy?" I knew he was joking, so I laughed and sat down.

"How's it goin', Mr. P?"

He folded his hands over his stomach. "Well, I'm eighty-three, blind, single, and stuck in a hospital bed. What do ya think?" He chuckled.

We chatted for a while before my pager cut off my awesome "an elephant walks into a bar" joke. I sighed and jumped up. "Gotta run, Mr. P; duty calls. You stay beautiful."

I sprinted to the ICU and skidded to a stop in front of Bed 5. My interns Ed and Sunny were desperately trying to resuscitate my car crash patient Mrs. Heath, nurses fluttering around like bees. "She's coding!" a nurse yelled. I took over, knocking Ed's unsure hands away.

This was the time when all the kidding around vanished, when I wasn't J.D., when I was Dr. Dorian. When I was saving lives. Ed backed up, but I couldn't see if he left, since I was focused on chest compressions. Sunny nervously stood there until a nurse told her to move out of the way.

I'd like to say everything worked out, but it was too late. I was too late. The dull beep of Mrs. Heath flat lining buzzed in my ears as I turned away from the bed. Sunny, Jo, Ed, Katie, Howie and a few other interns were standing in a group like this was rounds or something.

"Whose fault is this?" I asked, wanting to pull a Dr. Cox and knock some crap over. The interns shuffled uneasily, and I knew this was something they weren't ready for yet. I couldn't blame them. I looked around the ICU. "Why wasn't anyone here?"

The queue of residents I had directed the question to frowned uncomfortably. "Well, Dr. Dorian…" The resident crossed her arms. "You should've been here. This was your patient." She looked at the other residents, who were nodding and murmuring in agreement. Suddenly, every staff member on the floor was in a crowd in front of me, accusing looks on all their faces. They were pissed.

To top it all off, Elliot walked in then, head bent over a chart. She looked up and seemed to notice for the first time that I was standing in front of an angry medical mob. "What's going on?"

Lavernagan put a hand on her hip. "Dr. Lazy-Ass here let one of his patients die and wants to blame it on his interns when _he_ should have been here."

Elliot got that disappointed look, the one that always made me feel like crap. I sighed. "Look, I thought you guys could handle this. Mrs. Heath was stable for two days; no one would have seen this coming."

"Hey, dip wad? That's part of being a _doctor_. Expecting the unexpected, and then taking care of it. Next time, don't put your work off onto some interns and do your job." Elliot rolled her eyes at me and continued past the crowd, which was now whistling and agreeing with her.

As she left, the Janitor jogged up with a brightly burning torch in one hand and a pitchfork in the other. "Okay," he panted. "I nominate myself as Angry Mob Leader. No objections? Good. As leader, I get to impale Dorian first." He raised the pitchfork. "Who's with me?"

In a fit of mumbles, the crowd dispersed. The Janitor pointed the torch at me. "This isn't over." Then he stomped off, leaving me alone next to a dead lady.

I felt like crap by lunch. Nearly the whole hospital was talking about me behind my back, and the only person who wasn't judging me was Turk. The lunch table was stiff and awkward. Carla and Elliot were still pissed that I had been so careless and lazy. Turk was trying to be the good guy, still being nice to me and on their sides too.

"I still can't believe you let her die on you, Bambi," Carla said as she sipped her vitamin water.

Turk intervened for me. "In my buddy's defense, he was entertaining a blind old man."

"That doesn't make it right that he let his interns do something they weren't prepared for," Elliot said around a mouthful of salad. "And someone ended up dying for it."

Turk switched sides, like he'd been doing the entire conversation. "Seriously, man, that's jacked up. Letting interns take care of a severe case when they don't got that kind of experience yet! Ugh!"

They bickered more. Finally, I slammed my water bottle down and yelled, "Okay! I get it! It was irresponsible, I'm very sorry, I'll do better next time! Goddammit." The entire cafeteria was silent. I exhaled sharply and pushed out my chair. "I'm done. See you later."

Carla, Turk and Elliot stared at me, wide-eyed, as I dumped my tray and left. I still had fifteen minutes on break so I decided to take a walk around outside the hospital. It was November-cold, and I wished I'd brought a jacket. My breath puffed out in front of my face.

I felt better outside. No one was giving me dirty looks, and it was peaceful, besides the sound of cars rushing past on the street to my right. I sat down on the bench by the flag pole, exhausted. It was funny. I spend so much time trying to get in everyone's good books that, ultimately, I end up hated by everyone but my best friend.

After a few minutes of self-loathing, I pulled myself together and forced myself back into the warm hospital. The staff nearby paused their conversations as I walked past and watched me. Ignoring their glares, I stopped by the nurses' station and found my chart for Mr. Popper. Of course.

"Could this day get any worse?" I wondered aloud, scanning the lab results. The poor old man had lung cancer for God's sake.

"Oh, yes it can, Newbie. Ye-hes it can."

Slowly, I turned and stared into the furious eyes of Perry Cox. Crap.


	3. Bath Beads

**Will J.D. survive? Will Dr. Cox kill his Newbie? Will I stop asking questions? WHERE DOES THE MADNESS END?**

I backed up against the nurses' desk as Dr. Cox stalked forward with his fist balled up at his sides. "Um, Carla? A little help?"

Behind me, Carla scoffed. "You deserve what you're getting."

Dr. Cox grabbed me by the ear and tugged me along, much to my embarrassment. No one laughed, though. They could tell Dr. Cox would mow down anyone in his way. The visibly fuming doctor dragged me all the way outside, down the ramp, across the parking lot, and finally to the fence that separated Sacred Heart from the copse of trees next to it. He shoved me against the chain links and turned his head to the side, checking for witnesses.

"I am so furious right now, Newbie, that I had to drag you out here because, God forbid I lose my oh-so-perfect self control and hit you, it would have escalated to full-blown _murder_, the murder weapons consisting of several hypodermic needles, a nurse, and a defibrillator. Before we get to the main event, let me count off all the reasons I'm about to murder you: you abused your power as temporary Chief Attending, allowed interns to do work you should have been doing, had a woman die for no damn reason, let yourself get scolded by little stuttering Barbie, and disrespected Carla. If you're wondering how I _know _all this, I'd like you to meet Keith's cell phone." He held up a phone, pressed some buttons, then turned it to me. The whole scene in the ICU played out.

I don't know why, but Dr. Cox wasn't scaring me as much as he would've a week, a month, a year ago. Yeah, I had the feeling he was going to knock me out, but there was no real fear in me. Only self-preservation that told me to talk my way out of this before Dr. Cox threw a punch.

I unwrapped Dr. Cox's fingers from where they were clasping my shirt. Slowly, I inched to the side and turned so I was facing him and the fence was parallel to us. "Look, Dr. Cox," I exhaled. "I made mistakes today. Mistakes that a chief attending shouldn't make. That no one should make, honestly. But Mrs. Heath was my patient, and her death is _none_ _of your business_. You can chew me out over working the interns, but eventually, you need to stop slapping my wrist for every mistake I make and let me be a doctor."

He lost his thunder then, face falling into a slightly confused expression. He didn't seem to know what to say. I continued, "If you want to know what I think? I think you're only getting on my case about every little thing because you know I'm finally becoming a great doctor, and you're not ready for your Newbie of seven years to stop being a newbie." I started to walk away, looking over my shoulder at his stricken face. "And by the way? Carla can stand up for herself, and Elliot doesn't stutter."

When I walked back inside, everyone was apparently searching me for bruises or other signs of Dr. Cox's fury. There was nothing to see. I had faced down Dr. Cox, told him what's what, and escaped with my life. I felt lighter than air. Weightless.

And then Dr. Cox was in the doorway I'd just passed through. He stared up the hall at me, breathing heavily. He roared "NEWBIE!" and charged after me like a wildebeest.

For those of you who don't know, an angry Perry Cox is faster than a cheetah, stronger than a gorilla, and meaner than a bear fresh out of hibernation. These proven facts were bouncing around in my head as I sprinted uselessly down the hallway. He tackled me, and I felt my head hit something hard. Everything flashed and went black. _Crap_.

I opened my eyes and found myself staring at a familiar white-coat-clad back…oh. Elliot. I turned my head before she could notice me awake, saw what was waiting for me on the other side of the bed, and turned my head right back. A black-eyed Dr. Cox sat in a folding chair next to my bed. He caught my eyes open and jerked my head around to face him, making my brain swim with pain.

"If you think a little head injury is going to save you―," he began, red in the face.

Then Elliot was leaning over my other side, Dr. Cox's wrist held tightly in her hand. "Oh, no," she threatened. "If _you _think you can harass the man that _you_ injured, you've got another thing coming. Hands off or I'm telling Jordan you have deep feelings for her. Also, I know what you let Jack drink the other day in the lounge. I might let that slip too, Cox-y Boy." She tossed his hand back and started scribbling on my clipboard.

I felt my eyes widen. No one stood up to Dr. Cox, especially not Elliot. His eyes narrowed. Finally, he asked her, "Are you getting out of here or what?"

"Yeah, right," Elliot scoffed with her back turned again. "I would if I thought for one second you wouldn't jump J.D. the second you got the chance." She sat down on the windowsill and made herself comfortable.

Dr. Cox stood and glared at us, leaving without another word. I grinned at Elliot. "Thanks. He would've kicked my defenseless ass."

She laughed. "He could kick your ass any day, no matter how defended you were."

I allowed that one, sitting up and massaging the bandages around my head. I was about to ask when I was getting out of here when she frowned, her right hand rubbing her left arm awkwardly. "Hey, J.D…I'm sorry for telling you off in front of everyone earlier. I've just been stressed about…stuff recently, so don't take it the wrong way, okay?"

That made me feel like a jerk, don't ask me why. I just wished the whole thing hadn't happened. "Hey, don't worry about it. It was easier to take than one of Dr. Cox's rants, I won't lie."

She smiled, waved halfheartedly, and started to leave.

"Wait!" I shouted. "What if he comes back?"

Elliot grinned and pointed out my window to the nurses' desk. "I have every nurse in the hospital prepared to page me if Dr. Cox comes within ten feet of you. Don't worry about it."

She was gone before I could thank her.

Turk came in a little later, sitting next to my bed immediately. He was out of breath. "_Dude!_ Dr. Cox is pissed at you, and he's taking it on me! I've been running away from him for the last hour. This is the only safe zone." He nodded his head toward the window. As I watched, Dr. Cox came walking down the hallway. Every nurse on the floor stopped to track him with their eyes. Slowly, he put his hands behind his, then swore loudly and stomped away. I grinned.

"If I wasn't stuck in this bed, this would be the best prank set-up ever." I sighed.

Turk's next words were interrupted by Carla coming into the room. She had the pleading, guilty expression I've seen very few times on her.

"Oh, Bambi, I'm so sorry! I should have told Dr. Cox to lay off, but I was still mad at you and ―" She blathered on about not helping me for a while. I tuned her out and played an inconspicuous game of Finger or Toe with Turk.

"Baby," Turk began, standing up. "J.D. needs to rest. I have surgery in an hour, and I know you have plenty of things to do. Please leave Vanilla Bear alone?" He held out his hand.

Carla frowned, but took it. "I'll be back later."

Turk gave me the "At least I tried" shrug and led Carla outside. I rested on the pillows, getting ready to take a nap when an intern walked in. He dropped a pair of scrubs on the chair next to my bed. "You're being discharged, Dr. Dorian," he said. I sighed.

Dr. Cox apparently decided I'm dead to him. Whenever he had to talk to me, he had an intern relay all of his words. Even in patients' rooms he was completely uncivilized.

"Okay, Ms. Thompson, your fever has gone down and all of your vitals have returned to normal." I glanced back down at her chart. "You should be getting out of here soon."

"Oh, thank you, doctors," she replied. "This one doesn't talk much though, does he?" She looked at Dr. Cox.

He made an animalistic growl in his throat and stormed out of the room.

"He…Yeah, he's off the pill." I zipped out of the room before she could reply.

I sat on the nurses' desk and groaned. Elliot and Carla looked up from a chart they were discussing, questioning expressions on. "It's Dr. Cox," I started, turning to them. "See―"

Elliot cut me off. "I'll stop you there. I know he's being totally unprofessional, but after much thought, Carla and I have come up with no solutions to the problem." Carla showed me her chart, which was actually a sheet of paper with "How to Solve J.D.'s Problems" scrawled across the top.

"Wait, you're saying you brainstorm how to fix my life before I come to you?" I gaped at them.

Carla shrugged. "What? You think we come up with this stuff on the spot? You're way too screwed up for that." I shook my head, incredulous, and looked at my watch.

"Hey, it's almost six. I'm off then. How about you guys?"

Carla and Elliot confirmed, and I told them to meet me at the bar after work. I slid off the desk and made my way to the locker room to change. The Janitor was blocking the entrance, leaning on the handle of his mop.

"Why are you standing there?" I asked.

He stood up, raising his eyebrows. "Well, I thought I'd just stand around and contemplate how I'm going to feed my handicapped wife and son, but since Scooter here says I can't, I guess I'll go home empty-handed and watch them wither away to dust." He held out his hands.

I shook my head. "What…No, I never said you couldn't." I pulled a few bills out of my pocket and waved them at him. "Look, do you want some cash if it's that big a deal?"

"Oh, I see. Since you're a big shot doctor, of course you can lend some money to the lowly, poor janitor! You're making me into a fool. And you're gonna pay." He walked off, then came back and grabbed the money from my hand. "But not like this." And he was gone.

Once I'd changed and made it outside, Carla, Elliot, and Turk were already waiting. "What took you so long, man?" Turk asked.

"The Janitor. Who else?"

They rolled their eyes, refusing to believe the Janitor was as evil and sadistic as I said. We got into our respective vehicles and started off. I don't know what Turk and Carla talk about in the car, but I spent the whole ride trying to convince Elliot how screwed up the Janitor is. She was resisting the urge to punch me by the time we got there.

"Man," Turk said, sipping his beer as we sat down at our usual table. "When was the last time all four of us hung out like this?"

I contemplated that, swirling my appletini around. "I don't know. Too long."

I was staring at the door when it swung open. Obviously, I figured it would be a random person, not the one and only Percival Cox, who looked as pissed as he had for the last several hours. He stomped past our table and grabbed a seat at the bar. My friends seemed to notice how deer-in-headlights-like my expression had become, because they all glanced up. Dr. Cox started chugging a beer.

"Ah, crap," I muttered.

Turk rolled his eyes at me. "What are you scared of, man? Dr. Cox can't do anything to you here."

I considered that as the last time I'd seen Dr. Cox outside of the hospital came to mind.

_J.D.: *Notices Dr. Cox in the supermarket*Oh! Perry! I was wondering, I can't decide if I want the lavender bath beads or the vanilla bean ones. What do you suggest?_

_Dr. Cox: *Looks left and right* *Smashes J.D.'s head into a shopping cart* *Walks away*_

"Actually, maybe I should lie low…" I ducked down in my seat and lowered my head. A moment later, a gruff voice said, "I see you there, Linda."

I watched Dr. Cox warily. "How'd you notice me?"

"Gee, Newbie, it could have been the fact that your three closest and only friends are sitting at a table in your favorite bar with a chinless dark-haired stranger, or the barely touched appletini sitting on the table, or maybe-just-maybe I felt a wave of femininity so strong it could only have come from you." He glared. "As much fun as it would be to beat the snot out of you in front of this entire bar, Barbie and Carla are being as protective as ever. See you at work." And he was gone.

I dropped my head to the table. "I'm so dead."

For once, no one knew what to say.

**Sorry for the filler-y chapter, I'm just leading up to actual plot-ness.**


End file.
